What type is he
Suffocating
I know tragic when I see it
What blade borne of your heart
You could puncture so deep
And from so far away
Black field to make
Flowers for each
Ray of morning
Sunshine on me
That is a dream of mine
Would you like to see it some time
I can feel your point in the back of my skull
But I have to squint just to read the street signs
What type is he
Suffocating
I know tragic when I see it
What blade borne of your heart
You could puncture so deep
And from so far away
Black field to make
Flowers for each
Ray of morning
Sunshine on me
That is a dream of mine
Would you like to see it some time
I concede your point, though it makes me ill
You've a score to keep and I've a void to fill
I can feel your point in the back of my skull
But I have to squint just to read the street signs
Matt Sitas - A Dream Lyrics
Matt Sitas - A Dream Lyrics
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What type is he
Suffocating
I know tragic when I see it
What blade borne of your heart
You could puncture so deep
And from so far away
Black field to make
Flowers for each
Ray of morning
Sunshine on me
That is a dream of mine
Would you like to see it some time
I can feel your point in the back of my skull
But I have to squint just to read the street signs
What type is he
Suffocating
I know tragic when I see it
What blade borne of your heart
You could puncture so deep
And from so far away
Black field to make
Flowers for each
Ray of morning
Sunshine on me
That is a dream of mine
Would you like to see it some time
I concede your point, though it makes me ill
You've a score to keep and I've a void to fill
I can feel your point in the back of my skull
But I have to squint just to read the street signs
Suffocating
I know tragic when I see it
What blade borne of your heart
You could puncture so deep
And from so far away
Black field to make
Flowers for each
Ray of morning
Sunshine on me
That is a dream of mine
Would you like to see it some time
I can feel your point in the back of my skull
But I have to squint just to read the street signs
What type is he
Suffocating
I know tragic when I see it
What blade borne of your heart
You could puncture so deep
And from so far away
Black field to make
Flowers for each
Ray of morning
Sunshine on me
That is a dream of mine
Would you like to see it some time
I concede your point, though it makes me ill
You've a score to keep and I've a void to fill
I can feel your point in the back of my skull
But I have to squint just to read the street signs
Writer: Matt Sitas, Matthew Sitas
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid